


Color Me In

by Stone_Heart, YuriJules



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angry Yuri Plisetsky, Angst and Fluff and Smut, But mostly fluff, Eventual Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Mila is best bro, Mild Language, Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Teen Angst, Yakov is done, Yuri Plisetsky is a Brat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-10-24 19:18:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10748121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stone_Heart/pseuds/Stone_Heart, https://archiveofourown.org/users/YuriJules/pseuds/YuriJules
Summary: Yuri, get on.At least it was different. Not something stupid like, Hi, what’s your name? or Goodmorning! Those could be really shit to deal with. But it wasn’t exactly unique either.But he didn’t feel any different. Weren’t you supposed to be able to feel your soulmate’s emotions? There was no change, even as the words shifted from purple to white. If he wasn’t completely flushed from his shower, it would be a little hard to see.It is true that sometimes he felt really calm and composed while he often had these blow ups of excitement especially before and throughout most of his routines at almost every competition. That was normal though, wasn’t it? He should be excited to compete, right? At least that’s what he used to tell himself.The way they had described emotions, strong waves that could even transpire into physical pain. He felt none of that.Maybe, he said, wringing out his hair. Maybe he was just broken.





	1. Marled

Yuri Plisetsky didn‘t want to be there. He tapped his foot, trying to release some tension. Normally, he would have been at the skating rink, preparing for his first season in the senior division, but no, he had to go through a day of suffering.

He was standing at the back of the group, checking his phone every minute or so. Just to do anything at least. The group in front of him were his classmates. He didn‘t really know then, as he spent most of his days on the rink, going to school only to take some tests from time to time. That‘s why he didn‘t understand why he was suppose to be there now.

“Now, who can tell me when do we meet our soulmate?” Asks the female teacher who has been taking them through the museum. “Yuri?” She turns to him, wanting to know the answer.

“Ugh, how would I know?” Yuri retorts, not looking away from his phone. He heard a few gasps as he spoke so he looked up from the phone at the people in front of him who judging from their facial expressions just experienced an utter shock.

“Miss,” A girl from the front row starts, “Everyone should meet their soulmate before they turn fourteen!” She states, her head lifted just enough to make it infuriating.

“Yes, that is correct, Kseniya,” Says the teacher and continues her lecture. The deal amongst countries was to educate young people about soulmates and bonding seal, however, there weren't any norms specifying how it should be done and what should be taught.

The reason for Yuri to be so uninterested in the lecture was simply the fact that he hasn’t found his soulmate yet. Surely, it was nice to be told all his childhood that he was going to meet The one. However, as he got older, he started doubting that he will find his soulbounded. He saw all his peers being happy together and getting their own soulmates while he never got to meet his. When he turned fifteen this year, he got all these looks from his surroundings, knowing they were judging and pitying him for not having found his soulmate yet.

After turning ten, Yuri knew his chances were low so he fully indulged himself in his ice skating practices and competitions. Although he knew from all of his travels and encounters abroad that soulmates are not impossible to meet even at the age of twenty-seven, and Viktor Nikiforov was a living proof of that, it is rare for that to happen. At least that’s what their teacher was just now telling them.

Yuri sneered. He couldn’t believe the legend that was Viktor Nikiforov left to Japan to coach someone who obviously stole Yuri’s name. Yuri, of course, followed him there because that idiot forgot his promise and something had to be done. Although he would never admit it, he actually liked Hasetsu a lot. It was also there, where he started researching more about soulmates internationally not only from the Russian sources. He was actually quite surprised by the Japanese culture and how they treated soulmates quite differently from what he knew that he read several articles which could have given him some hope if he didn’t throw away the idea of still having a chance years ago.

Yuri scratched his collarbone where his mark with the words _Yuri, get on_. It sat, in stark black contrast to his pale skin. Watching carefully as the colours began to change, curling up each letter, changing it into a deep, royal purple. He peaked at it from time to time as he started reading the article which he saved when he was still in Japan.

\---

_Bonding seal – we all heard of it. The phenomenon which occurs when two souls bond together. It can happen in various ways; touching a soulmate’s mark, kissing the other half, simply locking eyes – infinity of options._

_Of course, that is what happens, however, we have to meet our soulmate first, which can happen at any time really so do not panic if you have not heard the words on your skin just yet._

_It is actually interesting because different countries have various ages when the peak of soulmate meetings is the highest._

_According to this table based on a research conducted by the…_

Yuri swiftly read through the unimportant paragraphs until he found what he wanted.

\---

 _The reason for China, Russia and some other countries being one with the highest percentage of soulmate meetings under the age of fourteen is a rich history of scientific research regarding soulmates and the pursuit of basing the whole family on the concept of soulmates. These circumstances also influenced some countries from the time of World War II. The situation caused that a lot of soulmates have a problem with soulbonding, especially if they met at a very young age having to communicate with each other right away._

_Some countries, on the other hand, view soulmates and soulbonding as a matter of harmony amongst people and that is why they do not choose the relationship of soulmates as necessarily romantic. Japan, Kazakhstan and S. Korea belonging amongst these countries shows also the highest percentage of soulmates staying together and the lowest percentage of individuals without a soulmark._

_Western Europe, North America and Australia shows the most distributed percentages amongst all the ages which can be also caused by their liberal views and not being pressured into finding a soulmate at a young age._

_\---_

Yuri looked up from his phone, only finding out that the teacher was nowhere close to stopping talking about how the Russian systém made it even possible for people to be happy at such a young age. His eyes went back to the more accurate information on his phone. He scrolled to the section _What You Need to Know_.

\---

_Some soulmates have stronger connection than others. There are several ways of finding out:_

  1. _Have you sealed your bond with your soulmate almost right away? Trust me, you will feel it when that happens. If yes, congratulations!_


  1. _Your tattoo changes colour based on your soulmate’s mood or what he thinks about. It happens after bonding._



_\---_

_Wait what?_ Yuri touched his mark, remembering how it changed from brown to the shade of the green of his eyes just this morning. The morning was quite peaceful for him, considering how he wanted to kick everyone just the night before because he didn’t want to go to the museum. He thought it was impossible. Why was his tattoo changing colour when he hasn’t even met his soulmate? He continued reading, hoping he could find an answer.

\---

  1. _After your bonding, you may often experience the same emotions as your soulmate. It may even be physical pain._



_\---_

Yuri remembered Viktor telling him over Skype that he doesn’t recall falling on his face right after the Pig’s performance in the Chugoku, Shikoku, and Kyushu Championship where his head hit the boards of the ice rink. Well, now it made sense. Who knows if even Viktor knows about that. Maybe he should send him the link to the article late, Yuri thought, but deciding against it. Those two will figure it out eventually despite being oblivious.

Honestly, right now he felt a bit terrified by the idea of soulmates. Who the hell wanted to know what other people experience and feel on daily basis? From the looks of it, he had apparently one of the rare bonds with his soulmate and he didn't even know them. It was scary to think that someone could just feel his emotions and whatnot without even meeting them.

Besides, why should the universe decide who he should have to be with? Why should anyone have that sort of control but him?

He read some more facts from the article, none of which really applied to him, at least not yet. He spent the rest of the day having to tag along with the group. It wasn't really fun since everyone was already paired and he hasn't really tried talking to them, although a few of them made the effort to get to know the figure skating protege at least a little bit but with no avail. As the group moved through the museum of soulmate history, his only relief were the occasional texts he received from Mila, mostly of his cat resting on various pieces of furniture.

Finally, at five in the afternoon the group was dismissed. Yuri has left almost immediately leaving no space and time do the others to involve him in any kind of conversation, saying that he needed to be at the ice rink which wasn't really true as he had gotten a day off. He went there anyway, still being able to catch Mila and Georgi practicing under the supervision of Yakov.

The three skaters and Yakov formed a circle; Yakov created it to get all the extraness out of his students, and despite not serving its original purpose because they simply were professional drama queens, the circle became more of a tradition. They called it the circle of confessions, where all of them could put their problems off of their chests without being judged. It built a much better environment to work in and the skaters all made progress much faster due to their problems being thrown away. When Yuri asked Yakov once why didn’t they form the circle before practice, Yakov turned away, responding with something about skaters having too much too talk about during practice. Obviously, Yakov must have learned that giving the skaters something personal to talk about would just shorten their time on ice, which Yuri realized too well but teasing Yakov was always fun.

“I have something to say today!” Mila exclaimed right after forming the circle. The rest flinched as their heads were less than a metre away from her.

“Geez, hag, lower your voice!” Yuri yelled back at her, making Yakov and Georgi lose their hearing once more. Before letting anyone to react to that, Mila was already talking.

“I have a crush on Sara! She’s just so beautiful, have you seen her legs though? But seriously, I have never seen such a cute and pretty face as hers. I mean Yuri has a nice face as well if he didn’t look so angry all the time but her face is just magical...” Mila proceeded in her blabbing as the rest exchanged looks. It was already a while since Mila told them that Sara was her soulmate but after hearing about Mila’s many crushes which were mostly discussed thanks to this circle of confessions, no one really thought that Sara would be Mila’s romantic soulmate. Looks like they were wrong.

The twaddle about how Sara was the most beautiful person in the world, no, in the universe, went on for a minute or two more. They all knew better than just stop her. It was how it worked anyway, just let them talk it out - that was the rule they all set in the beginning. Georgi didn’t have much to say that day and neither did Yuri.

After their practice, Georgi parted ways with the rest. Yuri and Mila lived together with Yakov as both of their families lived outside of St. Petersburg and they were both still quite young for living on their own. Besides, Yakov’s large apartment allowed them to be at the rink in less than twenty minutes by foot. Yakov would probably tell you that those two together were a disaster bound to happen but after divorcing Lilia, he much appreciated their company although he would never admit it. 

“So what was that about?” Yuri asked Mila once they were both standing in the kitchen, clean out of the shower in their favourite pyjamas. Mila was chopping some vegetables, while Yuri watched her from the stove where he was watching over a pot with a soup. Whoever let Mila use that sharp knife, have mercy on us, thought Yuri as he watched Mila owning a horrid expression.

“What do you mean?” Mila turned to him, Yuri terrified to see her handling the knife without looking at it. Yuri snatched the knife before Mila could do anything scarier with it, however that only resulted in Mila taking a few steps back.

“Stop doing that, you would look stupid on the ice without fingers.” He said, putting the knife down next to the already over-chopped vegetables.

“Well, I won’t skate at all if you kill me with that knife.” Mila responded, nodding to the knife.

“So what’s up with you and that Italian twin?” Yuri asked, taking the vegetables and slowly putting it into the pot. Of course, he knew Sara’s name, Mila spoke about her all the time and he even got a chance to meet her several times. She’d spend the whole damn weekend, just talking for hours over skype. “I know that you were platonic soulmates, so what happened?” Everyone knew for a fact that since Mila met Sara when they were both nine, they were inseparable at most competitions.

It was a bit taboo, platonic soulmates. Yuri hadn’t even heard of the term before Mila. There was no real mention of them on the media, or on the news. It seemed to be viewed as a bit of a waste, someone chosen that was perfect for you, and then just ending up as a friend?

“I just… Started liking her much more, in a different way, you know?” Mila mumbled, face reddening. She leaned against the counter, letting out a hefty sigh.

“Stop mumbling and cut the crap.” He said, crossing his arms. “Did you tell her already?”

“Uh, no? She probably won’t like it. We were friends for so long, changing anything at this point wouldn’t make sense.” Yuri wanted to punch her. She didn’t sound like herself with that expression which screamed: deeply in love. She already had several crushes in the past, none of which have gotten to this level of despair where she only recites how amazing someone is while looking into the distance with an awfully hopeless expression.

“Gah, how can you know when you don’t even try?” Yuri looked at her expectantly. Honestly, Yuri was quite good in giving relationship advices despite never having a huge crush on anyone and generally lacking in human communication. He was almost an cat whisperer and in no position to give love advice but someone had to be the voice of reason. Although a very angry one.

At this point, his chances of getting himself a soulmate were pretty low. The 5% chance that he has wasn’t really much and five years will go by in an instance and then his chances are going to be even lower.

Considering the chances, how was he going to ever meet that person. Mila already had her someone, she didn’t need to care about things like that. She didn’t need to look like he did.

“Hey, look at you,” she said, slyly nudging him with her leg. “Giving me relationship at advice, it’s cute!” She laughed, that annoying laugh that sounded like nails on a blackboard. “Besides, it’s not like we don’t have a great bond already, she’s like… family to me at this point! But just, hot.” She frowned. “That didn’t sound quite right.”

He snorted. “Just ask her out. You like her, just do it.” Yuri rolled his eyes, kicking her foot off of his leg. “And you’re already friends, so even if she doesn’t like you back, it’s not like she’ll hate you.”

She pouted. “It’s not that easy.”

“So you’re just going to give up?” He shrugged. “Your loss.”

At that moment, the door to the dining room opened, which didn’t give Mila the time for response.

“What are you two doing here?” Yakov entered the room and strolled towards where Mila and Yuri were standing in the kitchen. “You are making the food so long that I was beginning to think that you murdered each other or something.” At that, Mila went to set the table and Yuri started to serve the meal.

\---

He dried his hair, shaking it out. Yuri stretched the muscles in his neck, felt the satisfying click of his spine. But there it was, stained against his skin. Gently, he pulled back his hair, and ran a finger along the words.

 _Yuri, get on_.

At least it was different. Not something stupid like, _Hi, what’s your name?_ or _Goodmorning!_ Those could be really shit to deal with. But it wasn’t exactly unique either.

But he didn’t feel any different. Weren’t you supposed to be able to feel your soulmate’s emotions? There was no change, even as the words shifted from purple to white. If he wasn’t completely flushed from his shower, it would be a little hard to see.

It is true that sometimes he felt really calm and composed while he often had these blow ups of excitement especially before and throughout most of his routines at almost every competition. That was normal though, wasn’t it? He should be excited to compete, right? At least that’s what he used to tell himself.

The way they had described emotions, strong waves that could even transpire into physical pain. He felt none of that.

Besides, his tattoo was in Russian so his soulmate was probably somewhere in this country, however, the chances of finding themselves we low. Maybe if he only had a soulmate in a different country where the age to percentage of bondings was higher. Meeting both requirements, meaning the data and that his soulmate speaks Russian left him with real low chances since basically most of the Russian speaking countries showed the same data as Russia.

Or maybe, he thought, running a finger over the mark again. Maybe it was just broken.

He huffed, pulling on his top.

\---

_“Grandpa,” he mumbled, stumbling up to his Grandfather on wobbly legs. “Grandpa, look!” The boy poked at his neck. The word was on the tip of his tongue, he knew it, but it just wouldn’t come to mind._

_“What is it, what are you doing that for?” Said Grandpa, leaning down from his chair. He smiled, pulling Yuri’s hand away from the strange marks. “Yurochka,” his eyes were warm, soft like molten silver. “That’s your mark, don’t play with it.”_

_Yuri pulled down his shirt, trying to see the marks, but the angle was too sharp, and it made his head feel funny. The last one, a weird zig zagged shape, like a squashed lightning bolt across his collarbone. He watched, wide eyed, straining his eyes. The mark was jet black against his skin, printed deep, and dark._

_“Ink!” He cried. “Ink, it’s black!” Yuri touched the mark gingerly, looking at his fingers for a smudge of ink. There was none; his fingers were just as pale as before._

_This was a great mystery to the two year old. He rubbed at the marks, pulling on his skin to see more. Those shapes, they didn’t look familiar at all!_

_“What’s it?” He grumbled, glaring with all the pent up anger of a two year old boy. “Grandpa! What’s it?!”_

_“It says,” said Granda, clearing his throat. “Yuri, get on.” Grandpa raised an eyebrow. “At least it’s not too generic. That’s your soulmark, Yuri.”_

_Soulmark? He tested out the words on his tongue, stuttering out the letters. And get on? Get on what? Another great mystery to ponder of. Apparently having learned enough for now, the two year old toddled off, not giving much of a thought to the words on his neck. Grandpa shook his head, going back to his newspaper._

\---

Yuri woke up as soon as he heard the loud voice and a noticeable groan from the room next to his following right after, letting him know that it was indeed early in the morning. Yuri took his time getting out of bed before he heard the loud voice again. He knew it was Yakov’s because it was too familiar to him, especially since he was the one who woke up the whole apartment in the morning by yelling to get the hell out of the bed and go practice finally.

“What is it?” He hissed, rubbing at his eyes. Barely able to think, he pulled open his curtains, squinting into the darkness. Despite the still darkened sky, he ran a hand over his neck, smiling a little.

He’d call Grandpa later. Ask him about the dream. See if it was real. It felt real. He pulled down his shirt, peaking at the mark. It was blue, as bright as sky. _Yuri, get on_ , light like a neon street signs. Three worn words. Perhaps it was the dream, or maybe it was just something inside of him, but strong nostalgia seemed to almost coil up inside of him, twisting his insides.

He’d call him straight after he found out what the fuck Yakov was screaming about.

Anyway, what the hell was Yakov doing? Yuri looking at his phone and almost blinding himself, he saw that it was dangerously early. He had issues waking up at 7am to some of his practices so what was Yakov doing waking them up even two hours sooner than that, especially since it was a day off?

A sound of opening door was heard from the next room which belongs to Mila, which was how Yuri knew that in less than half a minute, Yakov was going to burst through his bedroom door.

Damn it! He hadn’t really slept that well either. His head was already pounding. Yuri gave the door a nasty glare, cursing, then rolled back under the covers. He groaned as the door opened

“What were you two yelling about?” Cried Yuri when Yakov finally entered his room. He curled back under the covers, just peaking out. Yakov stepped over his piles of clothes on the floor. Mila leaped in, almost landing on top of him, grinning like mad.

“The placements!” She cried, nearly buzzing. “Look!”

“I already know I’m there,” He said, rolling his eyes, but that didn’t stop the anticipation boiling up inside. His points had been high, very high. It sounded arrogant, but that was just the truth to it. He knew he was going to get in, but the chart still made his heart start to pound. “Great,” he said, scanning the list quickly.

“Yuri, read it!” He huffed, shoving the phone right into his face.

“Fine, fine, I’ll look!” he grumbled, taking the phone from Yakov’s hands. He looked over the list, reading the names.

Typical, of course Katsudon would get in. With all that egging on from his boyfriend, of course he would have to get in to make Viktor wanna-be-coach Nikiforov proud. And Chris, that guy. Honestly, after the pole dancing last year, he wasn’t exactly someone that Yuri wanted to spend time with. Besides, he was friends with

Phichit, was… alright. A bit hyper, but a good guy. He took really good selfies, but Yuri didn’t know him too well. Not enough to judge him anyway. There was another guy there, Otabek Altin. Another one he didn’t really know that well. A powerful skater, but lacking artistically.

And then there was JJ. Fuck, JJ. JJ, that fucking manchild, popping out quads like it was nothing. That stupid meathead had nothing on him, that talentless fuck! That maniac and his hag who apparently stole Yuri’s hairstyle, just painted it black. The couple was so obnoxious, he couldn’t even believe it. Although to him, almost everything felt that way.

“And Sara got in too! Not that I didn’t think she would, she’s amazing, but there’s always that little bit of worry, you know!” She bounced, dipping the bed. Yuri rolled his head back, willing himself not to punch her in the face. He passed the phone back to Yakov, who gingerly walked around the room, avoiding all the junk on his floor. “And we’re going to be there together! It’s going to be so much-”

“Mila!” He groaned, pushing her off with his feet. “Get out of my room!” Honestly, her voice could give him an aneurysm. His brain already felt like it was about to explode.

“Fine, no need to be a bitch about it!” She retorted, turning up her nose. He would usually have hissed something back, but he was far too tired to come up with anything on the spot.

“Language!” Cried Yakov, poking his head around the door. “I’m getting damn old for this.” He murmured under his breath, leaving his two students in Yuri’s room.


	2. New Surprises

The practices weren’t really any different from the ones before other competitions. Before Yuri knew it, he was sitting next to Mila in a plane going to Barcelona. Somehow he felt a bit nervous, as if his stomach couldn’t help but do cartwheels. Yuri wasn’t nervous before any competition in the past three years or so and if he was, it never really affected him. This was much different. It probably wouldn’t influence him if he had to show his best right now but the feeling in the pit of his stomach was prominent while distant at the same time.

Thankfully, the nervousness or whatever it was disappeared after three hours on the flight. There were still about four hours left and some passengers found out that the Russian skaters were indeed on the flight so some of them naturally wanted to get a photo. Yuri should probably thank Yakov later because it was him who made sure that his skaters got the privacy and quietness that they needed to mentally prepare for the upcoming competition. Now the only moment when he had to be careful was when going to the lavatory which took quite the effort not to bump into anyone who might be interested in talking to the young skater.

At last, the flight landed and they could finally leave to the hotel where he could get his rest finally. Or maybe not.

“Yuri, at least check yourself in.” Yakov said, staying at the reception with a credit card, Lilia next to him and Yuri checking his phone behind them.

“You do it, Yakov. I’m tired.” Yuri replied, turning away from them just to walk into Yuri’s Angels wanting autographs, photos and whatnot. Gah, Yuri just wanted a bit of silence. Did he really have to deal with this right now? Not that he was ever interested in it anyway.

“You ug-” Yuri started, only to be interrupted by Lilia.

“Yuri Plisetsky, don’t use unattractive words.” Lilia admonished him, making Yuri let out a sound of discomfort and annoyance.

Yuri’s Angels managed to pull Yuri in between them, taking photos while having a miserably looking Yuri stare into the camera lense while wearing cat ears. The tomboy cat didn’t really get how his fans could be so happy with a photo where he doesn’t even look like a person but more like a spawn of unwillingness and exhaustion.

“Wow, he’s so popular.” Yuri heard a voice coming from the other side of the foyer. He didn’t have to look at JJ’s girlfriend to know that her voice already annoyed him, not only the words that she let out.

“Yuri’s Angels are famous.” That other irritating voice was there as well. Of course he couldn’t get rid of JJ.

“Huh...” The hag said. “But JJ Girls are better about following the rules, and we’re cuter.” Yuri stared at those two from the group of his fans, ready to kill his prey. He didn’t like the ruckus coming from his fans when he was on the verge of dropping to the floor from tiredness but no one was going to say that his fans weren’t best!

Yuri let out an angry noise. “Don’t diss my fans and call them ugly, you ugly-ass bitch!”

“So scary. Help, JJ.” The hag was at it again. Those two were soulmates, everyone knew that and no one was really surprised. Those two were made to make other people scratch their eyes and ears out just by looking at them and hearing what they have to say.

“Oh, he’s just jealous because my fiancée is so beautiful.” _ Now I have to get a more beautiful fiance if I ever get one, _ Yuri thought. He couldn’t let that scumbag win, could he?

“Any guy that wears sunglasses on his head is a scum!” Yuri replied just to come up with a comeback. “Find someone better, you ugly-ass bitch!” He wouldn’t under any circumstances offer himself.

“Scary.” JJ’s girlfriend reached while JJ said: “Hey, don’t be so uppity.” Suddenly, JJ’s eyes caught another person’s silhouette in the crowd

“Otabek! Where are you going?” JJ asks with his arm lifted to let know that he was standing right there.

That addressed person, Otabek, turned around. taking his sunglasses off of his nose.

“Out to eat.” Otabek replied quietly with a steady voice. It was a silky, smooth voice which had a presence just as its owner.

“Eating alone? You’re still an odd one, huh?” JJ said with one arm around his girlfriend, the other gesticulating. Yuri was looking at Otabek from behind those two, being glad that someone else is handling them at the moment.

“Want to join us for dinner?” JJ leaned in, just a bit too close for comfort.

“Thanks, but I’ll pass.” Otabek turned halfway away, putting his hand between himself and JJ to wave him off.

Otabek blinked, his eyes landing on Yuri. Yuri felt the weight of that look, looking stunned but composing himself pretty quickly, saying: “Huh? What’s with you, asshole?” Otabek stared back at him for a moment, then turning around without a word and leaving the hotel.

Yuri got stunned by how easily that guy ignored him. What a graceful way to respond to an insult, right? Yuri couldn’t but admit that, too.

Thankfully, JJ soon found his way out of the hotel with his girlfriend and Yuri finally received his room keys so he could at last leave the foyer and fans behind and get to his room. There he took a quick shower before splashing himself on the bed and falling asleep really fast.

 

* * *

He managed to lug his bag up to his room.

Otabek huffed, rubbing his hands. He never let the others do it. Call it as an excuse for exercise, or an excuse to be alone. If anything, it was just a convenience. After that fan stole his shoes, he generally didn’t trust others when it came to his luggage.

After a quick check in the mirror, he grabbed his thick black scarf, throwing it around his neck. The words under his jaw were not particularly polite. “What’s with you asshole,” he mumbled, tightening the scarf. He could only imagine the looks of horror on his parents’ faces as they saw the words on the neck of their newborn.

And admittedly, he had hated the words, had hated his soulmate for saying that to him. For greeting him that way, when they didn’t even know each other. He wanted to scrub those words away. He had tried his best through the years to be polite, not to step over his bounds. It had been terrifying, even the accusation was enough to have him on his toes. Over time, he became - at least, to strangers - polite and gentle. He was determined not to do anything wrong - as if that would change the destiny.

He was over it, of course. No point in being angry about something he couldn’t change. Whoever it was, those were the first words they would greet him with. He couldn’t remain angry forever, he’d just burn out eventually.

Might as well go eat. Airplane food made him feel sick, and he was in Barcelona. You could find good food just about anywhere.

It was crowded, but he managed to avoid the press. He had fans, they just didn’t like to bother him too much.

His heart almost leapt into his throat. Why did he still have this reaction, it had been years. A flicker of bright blonde caught his eye. Despite himself, he looked up, watching.

Jeez, even a face full of anger like that sent his heart into a spin. Jean argued back, an arm slung around his girlfriend’s waist. He only stared for a few seconds, watching. Yuri glared, blaring out insults.

It wasn’t his business, so he kept walking, sides prickling as he passed the shouting boy.

They hadn’t met. Yuri probably didn’t even know him, unaware of the competition around him as he clambered up the ranks. The closest thing had been the eye contact, across the ballet bar. A twelve year old, and he had felt his heart burn like nothing before. Yuri gazed for a moment, lifting his leg gently into a standing split. Nearly three years younger, and he had been in perfect form. With a look of nonchalance, he continued stretching, ignoring the stares on his back.

A fighter. He could see it in those eyes. Like the rim of green glass, bright coral green of a soldier. The colour of his mother’s rich jade wine glasses, and pacific beaches. He shouldn’t have been so plagued, but that green was haunting. Bitter and strong, perfect. Filter clean green that permeated his dreams.

It was stupid, it was stupid. To fall for competition. A distraction he didn’t need. He should have left in the beginning, now his thoughts were starting to spiral.

“Otabek! Where are you going?” JJ - well, not happening now

He replied no in a straightforward manner, avoiding any misconceptions that he might in fact be interested in getting dinner with someone else. Because he did not wish that at all. Maybe only with Yuri.

Damn it, another stupid thought.

He glanced at Yuri.

“Huh? What’s with you, asshole?” Despite himself, he felt his heart leap up in his chest. Were those the words that welcomed him? That green, it dug into him, and he swore he could feel those words clawing at his throat.

No, no-

It was almost funny. Almost. He could have laughed if he was another person, but his throat felt wrong, as if something had been lodged there. He tightened his features. It was like slipping on a mask, he told himself. He gave himself a few seconds more. Yuri’s eyes widened.

It made sense now, the mood swings, running anger that wasn’t his own. A constant stream of bitterness under his skin, growing irritation that rolled across his nerves in waves. Of course it wasn’t his own, why would he feel that way? It was coming back to him. All the times he had felt that way. A slight difference in the way it burned in him.

The dots were all connected. He had been quite, afraid of the hum of anger beneath his surface. Polite, be polite, he’d remind himself. Of course he’d have to adopt a poker face, with no other alternative to turn to. It all made so much sense now.

Yuri stared, pausing. The glare, it had faded, and was now resembling something more like confusion, or perhaps, curiosity? 

Otabek turned, heart beating in his ears while he walked away.

Irritation, clearly not his own anymore came to him in waves. He turned a corner, and let himself grin. It would have looked strange to any observers, but he felt like he could have been dancing.

He didn’t dance, or sing. But he allowed himself, just for a while, to grin.

 

* * *

There were implications to this. Obviously.

His soulmate. Soulmate. Otabek tested out the word on his tongue. It felt good. But Yuri…?

He didn’t mind, he didn’t mind at all. Yuri was an amazing skater, someone who had been on his mind for years after they had met eyes at Yakov’s ballet workshop. He hadn’t said anything to Yuri. Not having spoken at all, he 

The public restroom was surprisingly clean. Was his mark suppose to feel any different? The words had changed, now a murky green against his jaw. He had rubbed off the concealer in the bathroom, feeling along the words with his fingers.

“What’s with you, asshole…?” he mumbled, pressing his thumb in.

Yuri was his soulmate. Yuri Plisetsky was his soulmate.

“Ridiculous,” he muttered, then laughed. It didn’t feel real. Like some sort of lucid dream he was stuck in. It meant he had a chance. This was confirmation. Otabek did have a chance.

Heh, even the thought of romance made him flush. He couldn’t expect that, surely. Was Yuri even capable of being attracted towards him? Yuri could be straight. He could be. It was a possibility, and as much as he disliked the idea, it could happen. They could be friends, or even platonic soulmates. They might not be compatible, might not even work well as friends. Sometimes, the universe made mistakes.

And that was okay.

No, nope, nevermind, that wasn’t okay. That thought was awful, awful. Resolute, he eyed the words on his jaw. He couldn’t give up, he couldn’t let this opportunity slip away. He also needed to try not be a creepy fan boy.

Who was he fooling but himself?

Of course that wasn’t what he wanted. He hadn’t crushed on Yuri for five years just to throw it all away because of this.

He sighed, pulling out a compact concealer, dabbing up the line of his jaw until the dark lines disappeared.

 

* * *

He hadn’t planned to go looking for Yuri.

Obviously, fate doesn’t give a fuck about well laid plans.

He had planned to grab a late lunch, settle down somewhere close to the ocean to eat his meal. Ride under the city lights until a reasonable time before going down to the rink for an hour or two. Get a good night of sleep.

But something else caught his eye.

A few girls, barely into their teens, whispered excitedly. He didn’t pay too much attention, driving around the side to avoid them. Pre-evening light filtered through the alleyway from above, and he kept driving.

The strange thing was, each girl (and one or two boys) had on cat ears.

Yuri’s angels, although they weren’t exactly behaving like heavenly creatures. They wandered through the small streets, fervently whispering. With curiosity burning in his stomach, he decided to investigate.

A few of them pointed as he passed by, but he was well concealed with his helmet on. Nothing to worry about. A person - Yuri, he realised, his heart leaping up into his chest - ducked into a doorway. Now his heart was beating fast. He hadn’t actually thought of what he’d do if he crossed paths with him.

Time to pluck up some courage.

He drove down the street, quick. Some angels were starting to sniff around the corner, searching for something along the floor. Otabek grit his teeth; he’d have to make this fast.

His heart had stopped hammering in his ears, now moving straight to his head. It made him dizzy, he felt as though he’d fall over. Taking a breath through his nose, then out, he rounded the corner. Yuri faced him, cool and shivering in his light jacket. He was prepared for an angel, ready to run. 

“Yuri,” he said, and felt the world pound around him. “Get on.”

Yuri gaped, going slack-jawed. Immediately, he straightened, rigid against the doorway. He eyed the motorcycle, then Otabek. “Huh… you’re-”

“There’s Yuratchka!” Came the shrill cry of a preteen girl, and Otabek clenched his hands over the handles. Quickly removed his glasses - the light wasn’t too bright anymore anyways - and reached down to toss him a helmet. Yuri barely caught it, still shellshocked.

The angels were onto them, now running down the road. Extremely reminiscent of a pack of wild animals. Yuri blinked, his eyes filling with mild horror as they came thudding over the cobblestones. Not having a place to put his glasses, he slid them back onto his nose, and reached down.

“Are you coming or not?” Yuri didn’t even hesitate, peering quickly down the street before tossing on his helmet. He lept on the bike, unsteady. Fumbling, he ended up with hands pressing into the small of his back, unsure. Otabek bit his lip, turning a little. “Could you please hold onto me, please? Safety reasons.”

The blond nodded, carefully wrapping his arms closer. He revved the engine, and they hurtled down the street. Yuri gasped, arms tightening for a moment, and Otabek refused to lie to himself. It sent a thrill down his spine. He could feel Yuri, warm against his back.

His arms loosened as they drove, relaxing.

And Otabek had to bite back a grin, a stupid happy grin that came up over his features. Yuri was oblivious, staring out at the passing buildings. With their helmets on, they could look like tourists. They moved out into the open air, and for a moment, Yuri rested his head against his back. It was a wonder, he thought, looking back at that moment, that he hadn’t smashed them both against a wall. He could have died, his heart beating happily in his chest, Yuri’s thin warm arms around his stomach.

He parked near a weird lizard, almost moving back to help Yuri climb off the bike. The nervousness was starting to creep back in.

Breathe.

**Breathe.**

No point in scaring himself. Just a chat. With Yuri. His soulmate.

Shit. Shit shit shit.

Otabek swore Yuri could heard the thrumming of his heart through his skin. They made their way up the stairs, all the way up to the roof. He rubbed his thumb over stained blue tiles. The sun was starting to set, and instead of looking him in the eye, he leaned forward. When he did turn, he couldn’t speak. The orange light lit him up, pale skin turning into a bright pink glow.

His throat was dry. He cleared his throat, turning away again. Yuri was radiant, it was like staring right into the sun. Frozen hands, he rubbed them together. Maybe it was just a distraction from the words bubbling under his skin. Why was it so hard to contain himself, he could feel his ears burning.

“I think this might sound odd to you but we had trained together five years ago at Yakov’s summer camp.” He managed, looking out over the buildings. It wasn’t so high, but the array of buildings were beautiful in the amber light.

Yuri was beautiful, the wind pulling out strands into the air. He tucked a blonde lock behind his ear, and raised an eyebrow.

“Really?” He was curious, staring intently as if he were trying to understand something. They weren’t close, the space between them was just a bit too much. Yuri’s fingers were tight, white as he crossed his arms. Goosebumps poked up, cold on his skin. He fiddled, a hand coming up to his collarbone before dropping.

“Hm.” Otabek nodded, relaxing his hands. “Yeah.”

“I don’t remember that at all!” Yuri exclaimed.

“At that time I was in my first year in the junior division. But I couldn’t keep up with the Russian junior skaters so I was put in the novice class. That’s where I met you. Yuri Plisetsky…” Why did that feel so good to say? His cheeks felt red, and he resisted the urge to turn away again. “Had the unforgettable eyes of a soldier.”

“Soldier? Me?” He could see gold flecks in his eyes, pink gold intermingling with rolling jade green. As bright as glass.

“I had just moved my home rink from Moscow to St. Petersburg. I was desperate. I’d decided that I wouldn’t complain until I was good enough.” Yuri nodded. Maybe he understood it, the desperation to become better, bigger, for the weight of a medal on his chest.

“After that camp, I moved around to train, from Russia to the US and then to Canada. I only managed to return to my home rink in Almaty last year. Now, more than ever, I want to win the championship for Kazakhstan.” Yuri’s hand paused over his collarbone, tightening again for a second. He looked up, and for a terrifying moment their eyes met across the space. Otabek sucked in a breath, releasing his tension into the wind.

“Otabek, why did you talk to me? I’m a rival, aren’t I?”

“I’ve always thought we were alike.” Otabek looked at Yuri, holding back his fear. Facing the sun head on, head strong. He wouldn’t look away, he’d let himself adjust to the light. “That’s all.” Yuri crossed his arms again. He swore, he swore to every god he knew that the moment lasted forever. A careful consideration. Then, Yuri’s mouth turned up, only a little. The left corner, lifting.

He wasn’t a poet, but the moment Yuri smiled at him could’ve turned him into one. “Are you going to become friends with me or not?” It was awkward, shaky. A terrifying free fall. Yuri could laugh and turn away, but he didn’t. He leaned in, offering a hand.

Otabek shook it, memorising the pulse in his ears, and the warmth of Yuri’s hand and the cold of his own, and the light around him that melted at their edges. Soft pink turning dark blue, rounding them out. Otabek was in the eye of the storm, and he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to be there.

Breathe.

Breathe deep.

It was okay to breath now.

 

* * *

Yuri woke up quite late - just a few minutes after noon. Not that he had any regrets considering that he didn’t have to be at the rink that day nor did he have to do anything skating related. He left his room, successfully doing so without being spotted by some of his fangirls.

His luck ran out just after two hours of wandering through the city. He found a safe spot in one of the side streets - what the fuck would he do if one caught him? So far, his hiding spot was withstanding but who knew how long that was gonna last. Seriously, they would probably skin him alive and stuff him so they could keep him forever. Or even worse, they could kidnap him and make him do stupid stuff which would only embarrass him and make him look miserable.

Crap… He thought. How do I get myself out of this? Hearing a sound of a motorcycle getting closer, Yuri looked over his shoulder. Yuri was surprised to see that guy Otabek on a motorcycle while looking badass and stylish as hell. What the hell was he-

“Yuri, get on.” Yuri had no idea what was happening in that moment. Why was he hearing those words right now?

“Huh? You’re...” What? What was he suppose to say? Otabek? My soulmate? He didn’t know.

“There’s Yuratchka!” They were spotted. They were both well aware that the fans were approaching really fast.

Otabek lowered his sunglasses so Yuri was able to see his eyes. He quickly threw a helmet at Yuri whose only response to that was a set of surprised huh’s and heh’s.

“Are you coming or not?” Otabek asked after putting his sunglasses back on. Without further thinking, Yuri jumped behind Otabek, not knowing where to put his hands so he kept them in front of him in the space between him and his saviour.

“Could you please hold onto me, please? Safety reasons.” He heard Otabek say after they were far enough from the crazy fangirls. Yuri’s brain wasn’t working at that moment but he managed to awkwardly put his hands on Otabek’s waist, making it look like he was trying to slow dance with a girl for the first time, not knowing how close to get and where to put his hands. It looked like Otabek was satisfied enough with that and Yuri relaxed a bit after a few minutes.

After a while of riding through the streets of Barcelona, the motorcycle stopped next to stairs with a weird lizard. Yuri was informed enough to know that this was the municipal garden. Otabek lead Yuri up the stairs to the terrace.

While walking up the stairs, Yuri’s head was spinning. This guy was suppose to be his soulmate? They couldn’t possibly have nothing in common. Of course, that badass look Otabek was rocking was surely amazing and Yuri could imagine being soulmates with a badboy. He was a bit reluctant as well though.

When they got to the terrace, Yuri stared at the weird architecture in front of them. Although it somehow fascinated him because it felt like to be in a whole another world, the architecture was still confusing for him. Some buildings looked like they were ready to be eaten and why would anyone want that in a building?

“Yuri.” Otabek said slowly, waking Yuri up from his inner thoughts. It also shifted Yuri’s thoughts back to Otabek. How was this guy next to him his soulmate again? Most of the soulmates Yuri has known had something in common so why was he here with Otabek about whom he didn’t know a thing except that he skates? There was yet another option and that was that Otabek wasn’t his soulmate at all and he only had a tattoo which corresponded to Otabek’s first words to him. Yes, that was probably it. Otherwise it would mean that Otabek has been walking around with a tattoo saying  _ Huh? What’s with you, asshole? _ and let’s admit it but that is not the nicest thing your soulmate could say to you the first time.

“I think this might sound odd to you but we had trained together five years ago at Yakov’s summer camp.” Otabek started when he was sure that Yuri was paying just enough attention to him.

Yuri was surprised to say at least to find out that they met before without him knowing. Did it mean that Yuri could have known his soulmate already five years ago if he just talked to more people at the camp and didn’t decide to give it his all and only focus on having the best results?

“...That’s where I met you. Yuri Plisetsky had the unforgettable eyes of a soldier.” Yuri lifted his head to look at Otabek. Did he really mean it? Having been considered only a kitten, a cute blonde fairy, he never realized that someone could actually take him seriously and see the tiger in him.

“Soldier? Me?” He voiced his own thoughts out loud. He continued with his own story of how he got to St. Petersburg. Yuri listened to the rest of Otabek’s story.

“...Now, more than ever, I want to win the championship for Kazakhstan.” Huh? What did he just say? Yuri curled up his fist into a ball, ready to fight. Who didn’t want to win the championship? Did that guy want to pick a fight with him?

Surprisingly, Yuri managed to keep his calm as he turned to Otabek with the following words: “Otabek, why did you talk to me? I’m a rival, aren’t I?”

“I’ve always thought we were alike. That’s all.” Otabek turned to look at Yuri at those words.“Are you going to become friends with me or not?” Yuri’s astonished expression even deepened, mixing with something of a disbelief or rather shock. Otabek was not his soulmate. What kind of soulmate would suggest to become friend in such a bold way and not even say that they were soulmates?

Still feeling a bit betrayed but excited to find a friend, his body moved on his own to shake Otabek’s hand. So what if Otabek wasn’t truly his soulmate? He seemed cool and Yuri felt relaxed around him.

After a bit, Otabek decided to suggest that they could move to another place. That’s how they ended up at a table opposite to each in a coffee shop in the centre of Barcelona.

They talked a lot. Yuri never had such an interesting conversation with anyone even if it was just a talk about his own life, his cat, grandpa, favourite food and so much more. Of course, there was his dedushka but that was natural. He never really enjoyed talking to other people much. There was Mila and Viktor but they were always around him so he was accustomed to talking to them and being somewhat interested in their lives. However, with Otabek he felt a certain urge to get to know him better, to find out the most about his daily life and even the most seemingly unimportant.

Yuri wanted to ask Otabek about his tattoo. Was he really his soulmate? He could feel something dragging him towards the man in front of him, at first it was more of an instinct to just be close emotional but each minute it grew into something physical. It was almost an impulse combined with longing which could easily come to an end if only he dared to touch Otabek. It wasn’t necessarily a sexual urge. No, that wasn’t it. It was just the need to make sure that the man in front of him was real and he was not just imagining it.

After talking for a majority of the evening in the coffee shop, Yuri noticed a smudge under Otabek’s strong jaw. It was difficult to tell, since Otabek’s jaw threw shades over it and it was probably covered with some concealer, but it had to be his tattoo. At one point, Otabek lifted his head a bit more and turned it to look at something Yuri was pointing at behind him. That’s when Yuri saw  _ th you, asshole? _ showing through the thin layer of concealer.

Yuri wanted to ask him about it since he now felt assured that they actually are soulmates but in that moment, the Japanese trio plus Viktor interrupted them, suggesting to join them. They all ended up around a table outside of a restaurant gaining two more people, the hamster maniac and the ice fucker.

Yuri actually enjoyed the gathering, not that he was ever going to admit it. His most favourite part came when Yuuri stated how a year ago he couldn’t even talk to Viktor. Poor Viktor was probably the most shocked, finding out that all the stuff he did must have looked like to a person who has no idea that they are in fact soulmates. At least Viktor has gone through some suffering for forgetting to choreograph his program.

The revelation that that pair got engaged while one of them didn’t even know that they were soulmates was much more shocking. While in Japan it wasn’t uncommon to marry to someone else than one’s soulmate, other countries weren’t that open about it.

Of course, the main incitement however came with Viktor declaring that they will get married if Yuuri wins a gold. Never in the history of sports would an athlete give up a gold just to let someone get married. It obviously applied even to the best friend.

The temporary moment of disapproval was disrupted by JJ walking in with his girlfriend.

 

* * *

They walked under the city lights. It made the circles under their eyes darker, their skin brighter, but Otabek barely even noticed over the conversation

“That idiot pretend-to-be-a-coach and his Katsudon are so annoying.” Yuri said, waving his hands as if he could express irritation with hand gestures. “They are all over each other all the fucking time.”

“It’s nice,” he said, pulling his jacket in. The sudden snow was freezing, and he couldn’t even feel the back of his neck anymore. “They found each other.”

He wanted to stop, pull down his scarf, allow Yuri to trace his mark. Find out where Yuri’s was, his ‘ _ Yuri, get on. _ ’ over his chest or back. ‘We found each other, maybe...’ he wanted to say. It didn’t have to be all romance and sweetness either. It could be this. Long conversations into the night, soaking in the late hour.

“Gross.” Yuri mumbled, but grinned sweetly at Otabek. Man, did that boy realize what it was doing to him?

“It was fun.” he admitted after a bit, nervously itching at his collarbone again. “Oh, Otabek!”

“Hmm?” Otabek glanced towards Yuri and then looked up. They couldn’t see the stars from here. The light from the city was far too bright, but Otabek found he didn’t care. It was cold, the snow starting to freeze solid. They brought their jackets closer to their bodies, shivering.

“Let’s go shopping tomorrow,” he said, grinning. “After the short program. You’re not busy, right?”

“No, I haven’t got anything planned.” Said Otabek, flush rushing up his cheeks. “I’m not busy.”

“Okay,” said Yuri, and waved. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Yep,” he nodded, and smiled. Yuri huffed, but his eyes became bright.

He wandered back to his room, almost in a daze. As soon as the door was closed behind him, he melted onto the floor. The carpet was soft, and he rubbed at his eyes. Then he let out a laugh.

Yuri was magnificent.


End file.
